disposition which it evinces towards myself. You may well imagine that
it would be a source of infinite pleasure to me, to find in your city
the extensive sphere of action you describe, as my sole wish is to
advance the cause of music on that path which I consider the right one;
I would therefore gladly comply with a summons which furnished me with
the means of doing so. I should not like, however, by such acceptance to
injure any one, and I do not wish, by assuming this office, to be the
cause of supplanting my predecessor. In the first place, I consider this
to be wrong; and, moreover, great harm ensues to music from such
contentions. Before, then, giving a decided answer to your proposal, I
must beg you to solve some doubts,--namely, at whose disposal is the
appointment you describe? with whom should I be in connection--with a
society, or individuals, or a Board? and should I by my acceptance
injure any other musician? I hope you will answer this last question
with perfect candour, imagining yourself in my place; for, as I
previously said, I have no wish to deprive any one either directly or
indirectly of his situation.
Further, it is not quite clear to me from your letter, how the direction
of an academy for singing can be combined with my six months’ summer
vacation; for you must be well aware how indispensable continual
supervision is to such an institution, and that anything which can be
accomplished in one half-year, may be easily forgotten in the next; or
is there another director for the purpose of undertaking the duties
instead of me? Finally, I must also confess that in a pecuniary point of
view, I do not wish to accept any position that would be less profitable
than my present one; but as you mention a benefit concert, no doubt this
is a matter that might be satisfactorily arranged, and we should have no
difficulty in coming to an agreement on this point.
I have been quite candid with you, and hope, in any event, you will not
take it amiss; be so good as to oblige me by sending an answer as soon
as possible, and to believe that I shall ever be grateful to you for
your kind letter, as well as for the honour you have done me.
TO CAPELLMEISTER SPOHR, CASSEL.
Düsseldorf, March 8th, 1835.
Respected Capellmeister,
I thank you much for your friendly communication. The intelligence from
Vienna was most interesting to me; I had heard nothing of it. It
strongly revived my feeling as to the utter impossibility of my ever
composing anything with a view to competing for a prize. I should never
be able to make even a beginning; and if I were obliged to undergo an
examination as a musician, I am convinced that I should be at once sent
back, for I should not have done half as well as I could. The thoughts
of a prize, or an award, would distract my thoughts; and yet I cannot
rise so superior to this feeling as entirely to forget it. But if you
find that you are in a mood for such a thing, you should not fail to
compose a symphony by that time, and to send it, for I know no man
living who could dispute the prize with you (this is the second reason),
and then we should get another symphony of yours (first reason). With
regard to the members of the Judicial Committee in Vienna, I have my
own thoughts, which, however, are not very legitimate, but, on the
contrary, somewhat rebellious. Were I one of the judges, not a single
member of the _Comité_ should obtain a prize, if they competed for one.
You wish me to write to you on the subject of my works, and I cordially
thank you for asking about them. I began an oratorio about a year ago,
which I expect to finish next month, the subject of which is St. Paul.
Some friends have compiled the words for me from the Bible, and I think
that both the subject and the compilation are well adapted to music, and
very solemn,--if the music only prove as good as I wish; at all events I
have enjoyed the most intense delight, while engaged in writing it. I
also composed, some time since, a new overture to the “Lovely Melusina,”
and have another in my head at this moment. How gladly would I write an
opera; but far and near I can find no libretto and no poet. Those who
have the genius of poetry cannot bear music, or know nothing of the
theatre; others are neither acquainted with poetry nor with mankind,
only with the boards, and lamps, and side scenes, and canvas. So I never
succeed in finding the opera which I have so eagerly, yet vainly striven
to procure. Each day I regret this more, but I hope at last to meet with
the man I wish for this purpose. I have also written a good deal of
instrumental music of late, chiefly for the piano, but others besides;
perhaps you will permit me to send you some of these as soon as I have
an opportunity to do so. I am, with the highest esteem and
consideration, your devoted
FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.
TO FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY, FROM HIS FATHER.[19]
Berlin, March 10th, 1835.
This is the third letter I have written to you this week, and if this
goes on, reading my letters will become a standing article in the
distribution of the budget of your time; but you must blame yourself for
this, as you spoil me by your praise. I at once pass to the musical
portion of your last letter.
Your aphorism, that every room in which Sebastian Bach is sung is
transformed into a church, I consider peculiarly appropriate; and when I
once heard the last movement of the piece in question, it made a similar
impression on myself; but I own I cannot overcome my dislike to figured
chorales in general, because I cannot understand the fundamental idea on
which they are based, especially where the contending parts are
maintained in an equal balance of power. For example, in the first
chorus of the “Passion,”--where the chorale forms only a more important
and consistent part of the basis; or where, as in the above-mentioned
movement of the cantata (if I remember it rightly, having only heard it
once), the chorale represents the principal building, and the individual
parts only the decorations,--I can better comprehend the purpose and the
conception; but not so certainly where the figure, in a certain manner,
carries out variations on the theme. No liberties ought ever assuredly
to be taken with a chorale. Its highest purpose is, that the
congregation should sing it in all its purity to the accompaniment of
the organ; all else seems to me idle and inappropriate for a church.
At Fanny’s last morning’s music the motett of Bach, “Gottes Zeit ist die
allerbeste Zeit,” and your “Ave Maria,” were sung by select voices. A
long passage in the middle of the latter, as well as the end also,
appeared to me too learned and intricate to accord with the simple
piety, and certainly genuine catholic spirit, which pervades the rest of
the music. Rebecca remarked that there was some confusion in the
execution of those very passages which I considered too intricate; but
this only proves that I am an ignoramus, but not that the conclusion is
not too abstrusely modulated. With regard to Bach, the composition in
question seems to me worthy of the highest admiration. It is long since
I have been so struck, or surprised by anything, as by the Introduction,
which Fanny played most beautifully; and I could not help thinking of
Bach’s solitary position, of his isolated condition with regard to his
associates and his contemporaries, of his pure, mild, and vast power,
and the transparency of its depths. The particular pieces which at the
time were for ever engraved on my memory, were “Bestelle dein Haus,” and
“Es ist der alte Bund.” I cared less for the bass air, or the alt solos.
What first, through his “Passion,” seemed quite clear to me--that Bach
is the musical type of Protestantism--becomes either negatively or
positively more apparent to me every time that I hear a new piece of
his; and thus it was recently with a Mass that I heard in the Academy,
and which I consider most decidedly anti-Catholic; and, consequently,
even all its great beauties seemed as unable to reconcile the inward
contradiction, as if I were to hear a Protestant clergyman performing
Mass in a Protestant Church. Moreover, I felt more strongly than ever
what a great merit it was on Zelter’s part to restore Bach to the
Germans; for, between Forkel’s day and his, very little was ever said
about Bach, and even then principally with regard to his “wohltemperirte
Clavier.” He was the first person on whom the light of Bach clearly
dawned, through the acquisition of his other works, with which, as a
collector of music, he became acquainted, and, as a genuine artist,
imparted this knowledge to others. His musical performances on Fridays
were indeed a proof that no work begun in earnest, and followed up with
quiet perseverance, can fail ultimately to command success. At all
events, it is an undoubted fact, that without Zelter, your own musical
tendencies would have been of a totally different nature.
Your intention to restore Handel in his original form, has led me to
some reflections on his later style of instrumentation. A question is
not unfrequently raised as to whether Handel, if he wrote in our day,
would make use of all the existing musical facilities in composing his
oratorios,--which, in fact, only means whether the wonted artistic form
to which we give the name of Handel, would assume the same shape now
that it did a hundred years ago; and the answer to this presents itself
at once. The question, however, ought to be put in a different
form,--not whether Handel would compose his oratorios now as he did a
century since, but rather, whether he would compose any oratorios
whatever; hardly--if they must be written in the style of those of the
present day.
From my saying this to you, you may gather with what eager anticipations
and confidence I look forward to your oratorio, which will, I trust,
solve the problem of combining ancient conceptions with modern
appliances; otherwise the result would be as great a failure as that of
the painters of the nineteenth century, who only make themselves
ridiculous by attempting to revive the religious elements of the
fifteenth, with its long arms and legs, and topsy-turvy perspective.
These new resources seem to me, like everything else in the world, to
have been developed just at the right time, in order to animate the
inner impulses which were daily becoming more feeble. On the heights of
religious feeling, on which Bach, Handel, and their contemporaries
stood, they required no numerous orchestras for their oratorios; and I
can remember perfectly in my earliest years, the “Messiah,” “Judas,” and
“Alexander’s Feast” being given exactly as Handel wrote them, without
even an organ, and yet to the delight and edification of every one.
But how is this to be managed nowadays, when vacuity of thought and
noise in music are gradually being developed in inverse relation to each
other? The orchestra, however, is now established, and is likely long to
maintain its present form without any essential modification. Riches are
only a fault when we do not know how to spend them. How, then, is the
wealth of the orchestra to be applied? What guidance can the poet give
for this, and to what regions? or is music to be entirely severed from
poetry, and work its own independent way? I do not believe it can
accomplish the latter, at least, only to a very limited extent, and not
available for the world at large; to effect the former, an object must
be found for music as well as for painting, which, by its fervour, its
universal sufficiency and perspicuity, may supply the place of the pious
emotions of former days. It seems to me that both the oratorios of
Haydn were, in their sphere, also very remarkable phenomena. The poems
of both are weak, regarded as poetry; but they have replaced the old
positive and almost metaphysical religious impulses, by those which
nature, as a visible emanation from the Godhead, in her universality,
and her thousandfold individualities, instils into every susceptible
heart. Hence the profound depth, but also the cheerful efficiency, and
certainly genuine religious influence, of these two works, which
hitherto stand alone; hence the combined effect of the playful and
detached passages, with the most noble and sincere feelings of gratitude
produced by the whole; hence is it also, that I individually could as
little endure to lose in the “Creation” and in the “Seasons” the crowing
of the cock, the singing of the lark, the lowing of the cattle, and the
rustic glee of the peasants, as I could in nature herself; in other
words, the “Creation” and the “Seasons” are founded on nature and the
visible service of God,--and are no new materials for music to be found
there?
The publication of Goethe’s “Correspondence with a Child” I consider a
most provoking and pernicious abuse of the press, through which, more
and more rapidly, all illusions will be destroyed, without which life is
only death. You, I trust, will never lose your illusions, and ever
preserve your filial attachment to your father.
TO HIS FATHER.
Düsseldorf, March 23rd, 1835.
Dear Father,
I have still to thank you for your last letter and my “Ave.” I often
cannot understand how it is possible to have so acute a judgment with
regard to music, without being yourself technically musical; and if I
could _express_, what I assuredly feel, with as much clearness and
intuitive perception as you do, as soon as you enter on the subject, I
never would make another obscure speech all my life long. I thank you a
thousand times for this, and also for your opinion of Bach. I ought to
feel rather provoked that after only one very imperfect hearing of my
composition, you at once discovered what after long familiarity on my
part, I have only just found out; but then again it pleases me to see
your definite sense of music, for the deficiencies in the middle
movement and at the end consist of such minute faults, which might have
been remedied by a very few notes (I mean struck out), that neither I,
nor any other musician would have been aware of them, without repeatedly
hearing the piece, because we in fact seek the cause much deeper. They
injure the simplicity of the harmony, which at the beginning pleases me;
and though it is my opinion that these faults would be less perceptible
if properly executed, that is, with a numerous choir, still some traces
of them will always remain. Another time I shall endeavour to do
better. I should like you, however, to hear the Bach again, because
there is a part of it which you care less for, but which pleases me best
of all. I allude to the alto and bass airs; only the chorale must be
given by a number of alto voices, and the bass very well sung. However
fine the airs “Bestelle dein Haus” and “Es ist der alte Bund” may be,
still there is something very sublime and profound in the plan of the
ensuing movements, in the mode in which the alto begins, the bass then
interposing with freshness and spirit, and continuing the same words,
while the chorale comes in as a third, the bass closing exultantly, but
the chorale not till long afterwards, dying away softly and solemnly.
There is one peculiarity of this music,--its date must be placed either
very early or very late, for it entirely differs from his usual style of
writing in middle age; the first choral movements and the final chorus
being of a kind that I should never have attributed to Sebastian Bach,
but to some other composer of his day; while no other man in the world
could have written a single bar of the middle movements.
My Mother does not judge Hiller rightly, for, in spite of his pleasures
and honours in Paris, and the neglect he met with in Frankfort, he
writes to me that he envies me my position here on the Rhine, even with
all its drawbacks; and as, no doubt, a similar one may still be met with
in Germany, I do not give up the hope of prevailing on him to forsake
the Parisian atmosphere of pleasures and honours, and return to his
studio. Now farewell, dear Father. I beg you soon let me hear from you
again.--Your
FELIX.
TO HIS FATHER.
Düsseldorf, April 3rd, 1835.
Dear Father,
I am delighted to hear that you are satisfied with the programme of the
Cologne Musical Festival. I shall not be able to play the organ for
“Solomon,” as it must stand in the background of the orchestra and
accompany almost every piece, the choruses and other performers here
being accustomed to constant beating of time. I must therefore
transcribe the whole of the organ part in the manner in which I think it
ought to be played, and the cathedral organist there, Weber, will play
it; I am told he is a sound musician and first-rate player. This is all
so far well, and only gives me the great labour of transcribing, as I
wish to have the performance as perfect as possible. I have had a good
deal of trouble too with the “Morgengesang,”[20] as there is much in it
that requires alteration, owing to the impossibility of executing it as
written, with the means we have here. In doing so, however, it again
caused me extreme pleasure, especially the stars, the moon, the
elements, and the whole of the admirable finale. At the words “und
schlich in dieser Nacht,” etc., it becomes so romantic and poetical,
that each time I hear it I feel more touched and charmed; it therefore
gratifies me to be of any use to so noble a man. The _Comité_ were very
much surprised when I maintained that it was a fine composition, and
scarcely would consent to have it, but at that moment they were in a
mood to be persuaded to anything. I would also have insisted on their
giving an overture of Bach’s, if I had not dreaded too strong a
counter-revolution. There is to be nothing of mine; therefore (from
gratitude, I presume) they persist that my “admirable likeness” shall
appear and be published by Whitsunday, a project from which I gallantly
defend myself, refusing either to sit or stand for the purpose, having a
particular objection to such pretensions.
You must be well aware that your presence at the festival would not only
be no _gêne_ to me, but on the contrary, would cause me first to feel
true joy and delight in my success. Allow me to take this opportunity to
say to you, that the approbation and enjoyment of the public, to which I
am certainly very sensible, only causes me real satisfaction when I can
write to tell you of it, because I know it rejoices you, and one word of
praise from you is more truly precious to me, and makes me happier,
than all the publics in the world applauding me in concert; and thus to
see you among the audience, would be the dearest of all rewards to me
for my labours.
My oratorio[21] is to be performed in Frankfort in November, so Schelble
writes to me; and much as I should like you to hear it soon, still I
should prefer your hearing it first next year, at the Musical Festival.
Before decidedly accepting the proposal, I have stipulated to wait till
after the performance at Frankfort, that I may judge whether it be
suitable for the festival; but should this prove to be the case, as I
hope and wish it may, it will have a much finer effect there, and
besides it is the festival that you like, and Whitsunday instead of
November; and above all, I shall then know whether it pleases you or
not, on which point I feel by no means sure.
I cannot close this letter without speaking of the heavenly weather that
delights us here. Light balmy air and sunshine, and a profusion of
green, and larks! To-day I rode through the forest, and stopped for at
least a quarter of an hour to listen to the birds, who in the deep
solitude were fluttering about incessantly and warbling.--Your
FELIX.
TO HERR CONRAD SCHLEINITZ, LEIPZIG.
Düsseldorf, April 16th, 1835.
Sir,
I thank you cordially for your last letter, and for the friendly
interest which you take in me, and in my coming to Leipzig. As I
perceive by the Herr Stadtrath Porsche’s letter, as well as by that of
the Superintendent of the concerts, that my going there does not
interfere with any other person, one great difficulty is thus obviated.
But another has now arisen, as the letter of the Superintendent contains
different views with regard to the situation from yours. The direction
of twenty concerts and extra concerts is named as among the duties, but
a benefit concert (about which you wrote to me) is not mentioned. I have
consequently said in my reply what I formerly wrote to you, that in
order to induce me to consent to the exchange, I wish to see the same
pecuniary advantages secured to me that I enjoy here. If a benefit
concert, as you say, would bring from 200 to 300 dollars, this sum would
certainly be a considerable increase to my salary; but I must say that I
never made such a proposal, and indeed would not have accepted it, had
it been made to me. It would be a different thing if the association
chose to give an additional concert, and to devote a share of the
profits towards the increase of my established salary. During my musical
career, I have always resolved never to give a concert for myself (for
my own benefit). You probably are aware that, personally, pecuniary
considerations would be of less importance to me, were it not that my
parents (and I think rightly) exact from me that I should follow my art
as a profession, and gain my livelihood by means of it. I, however,
reserved the power of declining certain things which, in reference to my
favoured position in this respect, I will never do; for example, giving
concerts or lessons. But I quite acknowledge the propriety of what my
parents insist on so strongly, that in all other relations I shall
gladly consider myself as a musician who lives by his profession. Thus,
before giving up my present situation, I must ascertain that one equally
advantageous is secured to me. I do not consider that what I require is
at all presumptuous, as it has been offered to me here, and on this
account I trust that a similar course may be pursued in Leipzig. An
association was at that time formed here, who entrusted to me the duty
of conducting the Vocal Association, concerts, etc., and made up my
salary partly in common with the Vocal Association, and partly by the
profits of the concerts. Whether anything of this kind be possible with
you, or whether it could be equalized by an additional concert, or
whether the execution of particular duties is to be imposed on me, I
cannot of course pretend to decide. I only wish that, in one way or
another, a definite position should be assured to me, like the one I
enjoy here; and if your idea about the benefit concert could be
modified and carried out, there would then be a good hope for me that
the affair might turn out according to my wish.
If you can induce the directors to fulfil the wishes I have expressed,
you will exceedingly oblige me, for you know how welcome a residence and
active employment in your city would be to me. In any event, continue
your friendly feelings towards me, and accept my thanks for them.
TO THE HERR REGIERUNGS-SECRETAIR HIXTE, COLOGNE.
Düsseldorf, May 18th, 1835.
Sir,
I thank you much for the kind letter you have gratified me by addressing
to me. The idea which you communicate in it is very flattering for me,
and yet I confess that I feel a certain degree of dislike to do what you
propose, and for a long time past I have entertained this feeling. It is
now so very much the fashion for obscure or commonplace people to have
their likeness given to the public, in order to become more known, and
for young beginners to do so at first starting in life, that I have
always had a dread of doing so too soon. I do not wish that my likeness
should be taken, until I have accomplished something to render me more
worthy, according to my idea, of such an honour. This, however, not
being yet the case, I beg to defer such a compliment till I am more
deserving of it; but receive my best thanks for the friendly good-nature
with which you made me this offer.[22]--I am, etc.,
FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY.
TO HIS FAMILY.
Leipzig, October 6th, 1835.
For a week past I have been seeking for a leisure hour to answer, and to
thank you for the charming letters I have received from you; but the
London days, with their distractions, were not worse than the time has
been since Fanny left this till now. At length, after the successful
result of the first concert, I have at last a certain degree of rest.
The day after I accompanied the Hensels to Delitsch, Chopin came; he
intended only to remain one day, so we spent this entirely together in
music. I cannot deny, dear Fanny, that I have lately found that you by
no means do him justice in your judgment of his talents; perhaps he was
not in a humour for playing when you heard him, which may not
unfrequently be the case with him. But his playing has enchanted me
afresh, and I am persuaded that if you, and my Father also, had heard
some of his better pieces, as he played them to me, you would say the
same. There is something thoroughly original in his pianoforte playing,
and at the same time so masterly, that he may be called a most perfect
virtuoso; and as every style of perfection is welcome and acceptable,
that day was most agreeable to me, although so entirely different from
the previous ones with you,--the Hensels.